Ah! We were such babies four years ago, with no idea how to do all this.
To this day, I love that our relationship started over a mission trip, even if we became a Baptist school cliche. I don't mind at all, because that basis has been the foundation of our relationship, from day one.
I remember when I was mad one day on the trip, before we were dating, and you said you would pray for me. I knew then that you would, that I could take you at your word. No manipulation, no show to be cool, but truth.
Then we spend the whole summer serving churches, and I accidentally told you I love you in the Amish store as the group got sandwiches. Typical Chris and Anna, right? And then, later, when I said I didn't mean it, you said it. And I knew you meant it, because you're Chris, and you tell the truth.
Four years, and you're always steady, always true. You've been home from the first day I talked to you, when constant moving and traveling left me without one.
We're so different that I used to be scared we wouldn't be able to both shine at the same time--our dreams, desires, so different sometimes it almost seemed like a joke. But when you shine, when you're putting together a softball team that shares the Gospel more effectively than a million churches, when you're watching a basketball game with a coworker, when you're counseling college students, I see Jesus in you.
And when I watch a documentary, tell you my next Big Idea, come home from a workshop saying we need to move to the Middle East, I see it in your eyes that you love watching me shine, that you somehow cut through my crap and see Jesus in me.
I love you, I love you, I love you (even more than that first time I said it in Tastes Like Home (by the way, I really want a sandwich and a Ski now)).